‘I definitely won’t be famous,’ he said, cringing at the awe in Indi’s voice. There was a hunk of hair missing above her eyebrows that suggested she had taken to it herself with scissors.How had that gone down at home?he wondered.
‘Bluey’s a cartoon. Real people don’t go in cartoons, Indi,’ Clem said quietly. She turned to Spencer. ‘I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have said that if I’d known you were in earshot.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve questioned my life choices plenty of times these last few weeks. No offence taken. How’s the farm gate cafe going? I’ve heard great things about your donuts. I keep meaning to call in.’
Her mouth twisted into a surprised smile. ‘Well, if you do, it’ll be on the house. Sorry again about before.’
‘Don’t stress, I’ve heard plenty worse.’
Something went flying across the back seat and a scuffle broke out between the two girls. ‘Don’t throw Orange Peel around!’
A wail came from the inside of the Jeep. Clem turned with a grimace. ‘Speaking of questionable choices, letting the girls have fairy floss donuts for smoko wasn’t my smartest decision of the day. I’ve no idea why they’re playing with fruit scraps but I’d better get them home before a brawl breaks out.’
Giving her a grin, Spencer headed for his ute. He was just opening the door when a scream ripped through the car park.
Spencer wheeled around, a fierce protective urge surging through him when he spotted Clem’s flailing arms. Leaving his door wide open, he sprinted for her Jeep.
Clem didn’t mind blue-tongue lizards, and she’d graduated from bolting to walking hastily in the opposite direction if a snake slithered across her path, but there was something abouta fluffy, beady-eyed guinea pig, with its sharp teeth and those creepy squeaking noises, that totally freaked her out.
She clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle a second scream, and used her other arm to support herself against the door frame of the Jeep. Indi and Harriet were frozen in place, with the quivering fluffy beast on the car seat between them.
‘He won’t hurt you, Mummy,’ Harriet said. ‘And he only did a little poo on the seat. I promise I’ll put him back in my bag.’
‘Where did that thing come from?’ Clem ground out between clenched teeth. Guinea pig poo was the least of her concerns; it was the loving tenderness with which three-year-old Indi patted the creature that worried her. ‘And I want the truth. Now!’
Instinctively, Clem’s thumb went to the tip of her pointer finger, rubbing the little nub where her fingernail was supposed to be. She wanted to reach in and grab the rat-like thing before it could maim her children too, but her feet felt glued to the spot.
‘He’s a good boy,’ Indi said. Another scream rose in Clem’s throat as her little girl snatched the guinea pig and cuddled it to her face.
‘Indi, be gentle!’ Harriet’s shout had a panicked edge to it.
‘Right. This. Minute. Missy, put it down—’
‘Is everything okay here?’
Clem turned at the sound of Spencer’s voice. His face was flushed, his breath laboured, having sprinted in their direction. ‘What happened?’
Clem’s heart hammered against her chest, so loud she could hardly even hear her own words. ‘I need a basket. Or a cat trap. Or even a plastic bag. Can you see if there’s something in the boot, please?’ He didn’t need to be asked twice.
‘I’m going to murder Jack if he’s behind this.’ Had her brother forgotten the reason she was missing the tip of her pointer finger?
‘Uncle Jack didn’t know we took him. And you can’t put Orange Peel in a plastic bag, Mum,’ Harriet said. ‘He fits in my handbag.’ She opened her small woven handbag and tucked the creature inside, a flurry of wriggling feet and squeaks. Harriet fastened the clasp and stuffed the bag under her jumper. Shielding it from Clem, no doubt.
‘I want to hold him.’ Indi’s bottom lip trembled and Clem softened as she saw her daughter tearing up. She felt like crying too.
‘We wouldn’t have been caught if you hadn’t taken him out of my bag, Indi,’ Harriet grumbled, then turned her eyes to Spencer, who had appeared behind Clem, an insulated Coles shopping bag in one hand.
‘What are we dealing with? A stowaway lizard? A bird? A kitten?’
‘Worse,’ Clem said. ‘A guinea pig.’
‘His name’s Orange Peel,’ Harriet said. ‘Our cousin Selina had babies.’
‘Herguinea pighad babies,’ Clem corrected. ‘And we are definitely not keeping it. Absolutely, definitely not. We’ve already talked about this.’
‘We’re borrowing him,’ Harriet hedged. ‘For one teeny tiny night. So we can know what it’s like to have a pet.’
Clem shook her head. ‘Who needs video cameras and scripts when you could have daily drama, brought to you by this pair of Crossley scallywags? Those evil furry creatures are the stuff of nightmares. They certainly ruined my dreams of becoming a jewellery model.’
